


A Gentleman's Agreement

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fights, Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek have an agreement, a gentleman’s agreement, if you will. And it’s actually worked out quite nicely, on multiple occasions, in fact.</p><p>The agreement being that if the situation should arise where it would be necessary to have a significant other close by, they would step in and pretend to be that significant other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gentleman's Agreement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nashirah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nashirah/gifts).



> This is a belated birthday present for [Nashi](http://lonewolfed.tumblr.com/) and I tried to combine a few of the things she likes! I hope you like it, Nashi! :D HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Stiles and Derek have an agreement, a gentleman’s agreement, if you will. And it’s actually worked out quite nicely, on multiple occasions, in fact.

The agreement being that if the situation should arise where it would be necessary to have a significant other close by, they would step in and pretend to be that significant other.

It’s gotten them out of many sticky and/or awkward predicaments, and above that, it’s nice to have someone he can count on to do that with.

He used to have Scott, and he still does in a way. Only not really since he lives freakin’ forever away and refused to go to college outside of the state of California, unlike Stiles who couldn’t wait to live some place where it snowed and where the citizens had only heard about In N Out on TV if at all. Stiles is not bitter about not having his best friend with him. He’s not.

Because he has Derek. Which is a weird thing he never thought he’d actually get a warm fuzzy feeling about when he said it. He tries not to let the feeling dwell though because he doesn’t want to upset the delicate balance and agreement they have with one another.

~

When Stiles received his acceptance to Columbia and replied with a “hell yes I am going,” Derek had decided it was time to move too. He swears he didn’t plan it that way, which Stiles believes for the most part, but it means that when Stiles packs up to go to school, Derek is packing up what little belongings he has to go with him. Really, it’s probably for the best since Stiles will be pretty much alone up there, no family or friends nearby. His dad definitely feels safer in the knowledge that Stiles will have Derek close enough to help him if say he gets locked out of his dorm or something. Stiles feels safer about it too, actually.

They don’t leave together though. Stiles and his dad fly to New York with as much of Stiles’s things they can check or carry-on, and they leave everything else with Derek, who’s driving a UHaul up there a few days later. It’s good to spend that time with his Dad though. They head up early enough to spend the first couple days sightseeing before Stiles has orientation. His dad helps him settle into his dorm, and they take goofy pictures at the top of the Empire State Building (his dad refuses to let him spit off the top though).

As planned, a few days later, Derek arrives with the UHaul, and he and his dad help take out what little things are Stiles’s and move it into his dorm. Derek’s place is only a few blocks away, and while he insists he doesn’t need help with his own things, the Sheriff and Stiles follow behind him to his apartment to help anyway. The whole weekend is nice; everyone gets along, helps each other move in boxes and furniture, and when it’s all done, they order pizza and eat it on the floor of Derek’s new apartment (he didn’t bring much furniture, deciding he’d rather buy new stuff).

After the weekend ends, though, Stiles has freshman orientation and his dad says goodbye and flies back to Beacon Hills. Throughout the week and the next when classes start, he texts Derek, telling him about the weird kid that lives in the room across from him, or his silent roommate. He sends a picture of himself making faces on campus, and Derek responds with one word answers or a picture of himself looking rather unimpressed.

He’s not sure why he keeps sending pictures and texts to Derek, but he does and Derek responds, so it must mean he’s not bugging the crap out of him, right? In fact, it must be because the weekend after his first full week of classes, Derek asks him if he wants to go couch shopping with him.

And really that’s where it all starts. Where he and Derek became friends and started… their arrangement.

~

After figuring out where the nearest Ikea is (Brooklyn), he and Derek venture in on a mission to find the cheapest and yet comfiest couch the Swedish can make.

“How about this one?” Stiles says, plopping down on a long gray couch with floral pillows. “I mean we’ll get different pillows, obviously.” He picks up the floral pillow and makes a face of disgust at it before shoving it back in the corner as far away from him as he can.

Derek sits down on the opposite end (on the floral pillow in fact) and makes a face.

Stiles sighs, “You’re going to make us sit on every single couch in this display room aren’t you?”

Derek shrugs. “I can’t decide.”

Stiles stands up, shaking his head leaving Derek to go to the next area of couches. After scanning through the tags of their prices first, he turns to find Derek, who did not follow him over. In fact, he is talking to someone. Stiles innocently thinks it is a saleswoman, except for the person is not wearing a characteristic blue or yellow polo, and she is standing in such a way that is obvious to anyone with eyes that she is very clearly flirting and flaunting what god has given her in Derek’s face.

And Derek, well, Derek looks rigid and stiff and so uncomfortable, like the conversation he has found himself in is killing him slowly. Stiles knew Derek has been pretty leery of any kind of relationship after his track record, and Stiles can recognize a cry for help when he sees one.

So he strides over to Derek’s side, grabs his hand, and links their fingers together before leaning to press a kiss to Derek’s cheek. He notices Derek’s eyes widen slightly and Derek squeezes his fingers a little tighter than is comfortable, but other than that, Derek makes it seem like Stiles does this all the time.

“Hey, honey, I found a couch over here that I think would be perfect,” Stiles says in the most sickeningly sweet, lovey-dovey voice. Then he turns to the woman and glares at her before pasting a fake smile on his face. “Who’s this?”

The woman looks shocked and embarrassed (good, that was the whole point) before stammering out that she was just asking if Derek liked that couch. Then she swiftly turns and practically runs away.

Stiles waits until she is completely out of sight before letting go of Derek’s hand and stepping back away from him.

“Uh, thanks,” Derek says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No problem, dude. You looked like you needed rescuing.” Stiles shrugs and gives Derek a small grin.

Derek smiles and nods.

“But, I was serious. There’s a couch over here I think you’ll like,” Stiles says, dragging Derek over to the couch in question. (They end up getting it.)

~

After that, it becomes a thing. Derek finds a job and occasionally he needs someone to come with him to some company party, so he asks Stiles. If Stiles gets hit on by someone he is not interested in, he tells them about Derek, sometimes even calls Derek to show up and scare the creep away. It is a whole system, and it works.

Other times he and Derek actually hang out. When Stiles can’t stand his roommate, he takes refuge at Derek’s. If he can’t take another meal from the cafeteria, he raids Derek’s fridge (enough so that Derek expects him and buys food Stiles likes).

It’s good. It’s nice. They are friends, buddies, and Stiles loves it. He loves it so much that he kind of wishes he and Derek actually lived together, but he is always too nervous to ask, figuring Derek likes having his own space and being alone. He sure as hell isn’t going to bring it up first is the thing.

So he doesn’t. He and Derek continue to grow closer though anyway, hanging out when they can, going to shows and museum exhibits and movies when Stiles needs a break from studying and Derek needs to get out. On the breaks when they can’t make it to Beacon Hills, they go to the beach or go upstate to go camping, Derek running around like the wolfman he is in the woods and sometimes scaring the shit out of Stiles on purpose because he thinks it’s hilarious, the bastard.

Slowly but surely, Derek becomes a permanent part of Stiles’s life and vice versa, and though they never talk about it, the times when they have to pretend to be each other’s boyfriends continues to feel less and less like it is for pretend and feels more natural. It feels real.

And oh how Stiles wishes it were.

~

By Stiles’s third year of school, he and Derek (and their arrangement) is still going strong. It especially comes in handy when they come across other werewolves or supernatural creatures. Something Stiles had hoped they’d gotten away from, but alas no.

This time, he and Derek are at a nearby bar to see a band that all of Stiles’s classmates had told him he had to see. Derek had been reluctant about it, saying some bullshit about being too old, but Stiles told him he’d pay for dinner, so he went.

Stiles knows something is up as soon as he walks in because Derek walks closer to him with tense shoulders, jaw clenched.

“What is it?” Stiles whispers.

“It’s probably nothing, but there’s definitely other werewolves here,” Derek whispers back.

Stiles nods, letting Derek press a hand to the small of his back to lead them over to a table that a few of Stiles’s classmates are at, all waving at Stiles to join them.

The band hasn’t started yet, and there is plenty of room for he and Derek to join his friends at the table. They make introductions and order food and drinks. By the time the band comes out, Derek is a little more relaxed, and they are both full and happy. The music starts up, and a few of his friends stand to dance and get closer, but he and Derek stay sitting next to each other at the table.

After they play their first set, Stiles stands up. Derek looks at him, a little worried.

“I’ll be back. I gotta go to the bathroom, and get a refill,” Stiles says, smiling and patting Derek on the shoulder. Derek nods and watches Stiles turn to leave.

There is a bit of a line at the bar when Stiles comes out of the restroom, but he can wait. He looks over to see Derek bobbing his head to the music that had started up again, and Stiles grins at the sight. He turns back to the bar to see if he can guess how much longer he has to wait, if it is even worth it, and when he looks back to Derek, someone is standing right behind him.

It is a bit unnerving, but drunk and/or slightly intoxicated people are sometimes, so he edges forward to get back some personal space, only it does nothing as the man behind him only inches forward just as much. Stiles rolls his head and shoulders, and he tries to ignore the guy. Except…

“Excuse me?” the man asks tapping Stiles on the shoulder.

“Hmm?” Stiles asks, his eyebrows raised a little in question. The man gives him a wide toothy grin.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as too forward, but whatever cologne you’re wearing smells very good.”

Uh… okay. Weird, but still a compliment, and Stiles doesn’t like to be rude.

“Um, thank you? I don’t think I’m wearing any actually, but I don’t remember what I ate for breakfast this morning, so who knows?”

The man throws his head back in a laugh and claps Stiles on the shoulder. “You’re very funny. Hi, I’m Tony,” he says, his hand extended to shake.

“Stiles,” he says, shaking his hand. Out of the periphery, he can see that they are next in line at the bar, so he moves forward to place his order. Only, Tony sidles up next to him.

“Let me buy your drink, Stiles.”

“Oh, no that’s alright. I gotta get some for the people I’m with,” he says looking over his shoulder at the table to Derek, except Derek isn’t there.

“Please,” Tony says, putting his hand over Stiles’s on the bar and squeezing, “I insist.”

Stiles tries to move his hand away, but Tony squeezes harder. “No,” Stiles says, more firm. “Thank you, but I don’t think so.”

Tony sneers. “I don’t think you understand. You _will_ be coming home with me. You should be flattered I want you so much.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude? Give me my hand back, before I use my other to knock you out.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Tony says before flashing his eyes red. Oh shit. Tony leans forward, but is stopped by a familiar clawed hand on his shoulder.

“I believe he asked you to leave him alone. I recommend you do that before you cause a scene,” Derek says, his voice low in warning, on the edge of a growl.

“Oh yeah? And who the hell are you?” Tony says, turning in his seat to get a better look at Derek. To his credit, even though Derek is very clearly towering over him, Tony doesn’t even show the slightest hint of fear. In fact, he flashes his eyes at Derek, causing Derek to flash his own back.

“I’m his mate,” Derek says, this time letting out the growl.

Tony smirks. “Prove it. It sure doesn’t smell like he’s mates with anyone.”

Derek snarls, his fangs coming out. Stiles thanks the stars that throughout this conversation they have all three moved towards the edge of the bar near the back door where it is darker and not as crowded.

The bastard Tony laughs at Derek’s display. “What? You going to fight for him?” He flashes his own claws, looking smug like there is no way Derek can win if they do have a fight.

“If I have to. Or you could just leave and make it easier for everyone.”

The alpha looks up, like he is considering his options, then faces Derek, claws and fangs out, his eyes bleeding red. “I don’t think so. Not as much fun,” he says around his fangs before lunging at Derek.

Derek meets him in his attack, and Stiles is stunned and shocked because what the hell is happening? Also, how does no one else not notice? Luckily the music is loud enough to cover the roars and growls and snarls, and after the second punch from Tony, Derek tackles him and pushes him out the back door.

Stiles of course follows.

The two werewolves are completely wolfed out, rolling around in the back alley, slashing at each other. There is definitely blood, lots of blood, and it is making Stiles a little sick to see it. Stiles looks around to see if there is something nearby to help out with, really anything to get this to stop because he is so not worth fighting like this over. He finds a broken plank of wood from a pallet and rushes over with it held up over his head, ready to slam it down on Tony.

But it is dark and with both of them wolfed out and rolling around, he doesn't want to risk knocking out Derek by mistake. Luckily, he doesn't have to fret and debate for long because just as he is about to say screw it and let the board come crashing down where it may, Derek kicks Tony off of him enough to send him flying into the dumpsters nearby.

Tony doesn't move after that, and Stiles throws the board away and rushes over to Derek.

“Are you insane?” Stiles shouts frantically, helping Derek up from the ground.

Derek shrugs, which makes him wince as it pulls at his wounds.

“Uh come on, let’s go home. Good thing it’s not far. I don’t think a cab driver would be happy about you bleeding on the upholstery.”

Stiles slings Derek’s arm over his shoulders and holds on to his waist to help him walk out of the alleyway and back to Derek’s apartment.

Once there, Stiles sits Derek down on a chair and gets a few clean cloths and wets them with warm soapy water. He carefully peels away Derek’s shirt, cutting away what he needs to so Derek doesn't have to lift his arms and pull at his wounds that are very slowly starting to heal.

“Wounds from an alpha,” Derek says before Stiles can even comment on the slowness of Derek’s healing.

Stiles bobs his head. “Yeah, I know. God, Derek, this is bad. Granted not as bad as the time with the alpha pack or those fairies, but still bad. And for such a stupid reason!” Stiles tries his best to be careful when cleaning Derek’s wounds, but Derek still hisses when the cloth touches him.

“Not stupid,” Derek breathes out.

“What?”

“It wasn't stupid,” Derek says again, slower this time, like it is taking him a lot of effort to even stay conscious right now.

“Yes, it was, Derek. I’m not worth fighting a freakin’ alpha for. It would have been fine. I could’ve figured something out. I always do.”

Derek shakes his head. “No. You are worth it. I had to… I had to protect you.” He holds on to Stiles’s hand where it is swiping a cloth along his stomach. He squeezes it until Stiles looks up at him, meeting his eyes. “You _are_ worth fighting an alpha for, Stiles.”

Stiles’s eyes widen, his heart clenches, and he doesn’t even know what to do or say.

“But you didn’t have to,” Stiles says, his cheeks red as he looks down at his hands again, going back to cleaning off Derek.

“Yes, I did. It’s what boyfriends do, isn’t it? That’s... what we do, right?” Derek seems to be studying Stiles’s face for a reaction.

“But we’re not… are we?” Suddenly, Stiles is questioning all of their interactions and moments together. Have they ever actually talked about what it is they have arranged between them?

“We could be… if… if you want,” Derek says, voice quiet, his eyes looking down at where his hand still grips Stiles’s.

“Would you? Want that, I mean?”

“I want you… any way I can have you.” Derek seems surprised by his own answer, but he tilts his head up to look at Stiles. His eyes are intense and focused, as if he wants to make sure Stiles knows how truthful his words are.

“Really?” Stiles breathes out, like he can’t believe it. Derek nods, his lips curling up slightly. “You… told him you were my mate, though…”

“It’s a little more serious than boyfriends. I was hoping he would back off at that... but that doesn’t mean that you have to--I mean we can try it, go slow--”

Stiles surges forward, cutting Derek off with a kiss. It is hard and rough, more a smashing of lips, but Derek wraps his arm around Stiles’s waist to pull him closer, his other hand coming up to his neck to tilt his head at a better angle. And it is so much better after that.

Stiles pulls back with a breath, but stays close. “I think I might like to be your mate, actually…”

He can feel Derek grin against his cheek. “Really?”

Stiles nods, kissing Derek again in answer.

“You should move in, then,” Derek whispers against his lips.

“Finally. I thought you’d never ask,” Stiles grins going in for another kiss, and another, and another.

~

After that, there’s no need for a gentleman’s agreement, and there’s no more pretending.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wanting more fake/pretend boyfriends goodness, I wrote an interim fic for this story [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1940991). It takes about a week before the ending of this story.
> 
> Come say hi and fangirl with me on [tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


End file.
